Night of the Dead Living
by Red Cookies
Summary: A Grim reaper must be wary of the New moon on a Halloween night...strange things happen. Is the Undertaker experiencing the effects of the night or is this all a cruel joke? Possible Crack
1. A Dark Night

**Happy Halloween to my readers! This is my second fanfic and it's dedicated to my lovely Undertaker! (Well, I can't say MY because we all love him)**

**Warning: May show signs of gayness, corpses and complete randomness. Sadly, no lemons (not confident yet in my lemony skills XD).**

**Disclaimer: Toboso Yana is the proud owner of Kuroshitsuji. R&R my readers I want to hear your comments.**

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><p><em>Dedicated to my little 'sister' Rachel. I KNOW YOUR READING THIS SOMEWHERE.<em>

On a dark night such as this, the cold of the coming season settles in, the city is bright with lights, the moon is high in the sky. The children gather 'round in the streets, knocking on the doors and yelling Trick-or-Treat, receiving sugar sweets, sour snacks and chocolate treats. For a small young boy and his servants at a manor, it's one calm soothing night where a demon's face is smiling. For a Grim Reaper, it is a night you can enjoy, a time when you can relax, a festivity where you can laugh at the human's superstitions and 'disguises'. But this night is not one to celebrate, it is not one to laze, it is not one to unwind. On the last day of October, when a New Moon settles invisible in the night sky, when the supernatural is the strongest, the Angel of Death should worry more. But not at cause of evil monsters waking in the night or spooky creatures of the dark; it was a rare thing, to have a Void moon on All Hallows Eve, and it made a Reaper twitch, it made them flutter, it made them shudder. If any reaper fell asleep on this night, on this moment, they might find it difficult to wake the next morning.

The youth were outside, passing by a stone graveyard, when one of them hatched an innocent plan.

'Let's play the courage game!' one suggested, and they all agreed, all except one, small little boy who was afraid of the dark. 'I dun think that's a good idea, John.' he responded, fear prominent in his quivering voice. They all booed and teased the little one for being too scared to go in a graveyard. 'Everything is dead; nothing's going to jump on you.' one older blond girl reassured. It was enough for all of them to enter and run around. Some looked at the gravestones, others stared at spider webs, one wanted to open a grave, and sadly for the little scared boy named Peter, he got separated from the group and stood in front of an old, marble crypt. Peter was scared, of course, but he was even more frightened when he saw the chamber's entrance was open and he saw a figure inside.

'W-who's there?' Peter managed to say, shaking, and when all was silent and only the flaps of bat's wings were heard, one small figure sneaked up on the young child. He started and fell back, shrieking a little. It was John who had scared him and spoke up 'Scaredy cat.' and the other children gathered, laughing and pointing. They all felt a shiver when another person cried 'Why hello there, children!' in an eerie tone with a pumpkin smile. They all turned and screamed 'It's a zombie!' and ran, leaving little Peter who saw the tall figure crouch down.

"Boo" was all it said, but the poor little Peter fainted with fear. "Oh, how fun it is to scare the little ones on this joyous holiday!" spoke the figure, leaving the child, skipping away.

He was known by all around as a demented funeral director; no one knew his real name but they called him Undertaker.

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><p>A tall man, wearing a large dark cloak and a long black top hat that shifted his hair to hide his eyes, glistening silver hair that falls past his waist, appeared in the mist of the night. His heels clicked against the stone gravel below, and long black nails rose to scratch a tilted head.<p>

"~_Well_, I see the little ones are having fun in my _garden,_ but really, they should be careful not to **accidentally** fall on an open grave~. I might bury one alive!" The silver-haired man turned and saw some kids peek at him through some large grave markers, quickly hiding in the mist. "Suddenly, it doesn't seem like such a bad idea..." a large, shiny grin made its way to the man's face at the thought. He bore a stare at the black moon above.

_Hmm, I should be careful not to fall asleep tonight..._

No one may know looking at the odd man skipping through the graveyard, but he's a Grim Reaper, and a legendary one to boot. He worked, as his nickname suggests, as an undertaker, fascinated with the dead after retiring/_deserting_ –think of it as you like– from the Dispatch. Living the monotonous life of a Reaper was _boring_ compared to pampering the Dead. But there was one being who understood and respected his ideas, even when he had a different opinion himself, and that was the infamous Grell Sutcliff, the most flamboyant living creature in this planet, hands down.

Although Grell preferred the fleeting moment of death, describing it as 'wonderful splatters of red in a passionate canvas of DEATH –insert Death pose here–', our Undertaker thought of human's soul as interesting, life and death was messy, but their forgotten bodies, left behind after a Reaper had completed the job, were captivating and charming. The two polar beings were misunderstood by the other fellow reapers. To our Red Lady, a human life was near-worthless, uncaring to their feelings, yet the blood, the life essence of a simple human was his favorite. The Undertaker on the other hand thought backwards: a human's soul was immensely important; it was just their physical nature that intrigued him the most.

Be as it may, the graveyard he was currently in was quite lonely, until a familiar voice ran in the air.

"_Hello~ my darling!_" the Crimson Reaper yelled, fast approaching.

"Well, good evening to you, m'dear~." The mortician responded, giddily waving a hand to his mistress.

"Sooo~, do you like my outfit?" The redhead spun to demonstrate his wardrobe.

Grell had dressed up fittingly for the festivity; he had a tight, red witch's dress that hanged from his shoulders and fell barely past his knees, it had short sleeves and a spider web's pattern on the center of the back; his long velvety tresses hanged from his shoulders and dropped down like water around his dress to his thighs. The appropriate witch's hat and two black evening gloves that covered his forearms fully highlighted the dress well; pitch-black, high heeled, thigh-high boots with criss-cross lacing looked **very** complicated to put on and _remove_ –which for some reason is what Undertaker had been thinking at the moment– yet it all came together perfectly.

"Why yes, it fits you like a porcelain doll." He pulled something from inside a pocket, unwrapping it to reveal a purple lollipop. "Sadly, I didn't dress up for the night m'dear, I apologize." The older reaper tasted the treat cheerfully.

"Hmm, that's alright, but I'll take your candy in return then!" He swiped the bonbon and took it in his mouth. "Mmm~, it takes just like _you_."

"My, my, it seems you forgot who's in charge here ~_he he_~ now give me my candy, or I'll use force." Undertaker's threat was soft and parted with chuckles. "Oh you know I would like that _very_ much. And I don't want to give it back!" Soon, Grell was running away with they treat in mouth, savoring it, while the other had started a wild goose chase over it. The sound of heels pitter-patter dominated the cemetery, and one swift turn later, the ginger spoke up. "You can't catch meee–guah!" He fell to the floor with the other over him.

"I think I already did, now surrender the swee–_ckk_." The red head had kicked him off with his heels too strongly. Unlucky for the Undertaker, he didn't have time to react so his head landed on a particularly hard tombstone (as he could tell with the _throb_ of his skull) and broke past it. Thompson Harford would get a new one later.

'_So much for playful teasing_' was the only thought that computed on his now-broken head besides the transvestite's attempts at returning reality to Undertaker. The world looked a bit funky and hazy as he blinked a couple of times.

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><p><em>Undertaker...<em>

Bright red view.

_Undertaker?_!

A grip on the shoulders.

WAKE UP!

Eyes shot open. "...You rang?" _Grin_.

_Sigh_. "Sheesh, don't scare me like that..." The little reaper stepped back. "Sorry for almost pulverizing your head, I just **reeeeally** wanted that lollipop." Grell stated without a care in the world.

"I suppose it's alright, as long as I get my _revenge_." Undertaker lunged forward and pinned the reaper to the ground below them, over a grave's lid. He suggestively gripped the redhead's lower back, body heat radiating from it. "Now...what should I take in place of my treat? Maybe this?" Undertaker took a light bite of the squirming ginger's neck, earning a soft mewl from the red reaper's mouth. Soft kisses and love bites were left before he knew it and then Undertaker turned to the other side of his nape.

"_Aah!_" He took the flesh and sucked at the spot harshly, caressing it with his tongue afterwards. Damn it, he always knew how to work his magic. The taller man traced the tip of his tongue over Grell's clavicle, then his throat, then the delicate jawline, gently sucking and nipping here and there. Undertaker stopped at the edge of his lips, lifted the victim's chin, a shiver running through him, and said "I think that's enough payback don't you?"

"_G-God_, you never cease to tease me!" The younger reaper turned a bright shade of red and huffed. "Can't you finish what you started? _Hmph!_ Sometimes you leave me so hot and bother–" A crunch of twigs was heard near them.

Undertaker stood up and turned, Grell yelling aloud. "Who dared interrupt my kinky time?"

A silhouette appeared behind an old, withering tree near the path beside the grave Undertaker decided to use as a couch. It looked like a man that was heavily injured looking at how he walked from the distance.

"Excuuuse me sir, but do you have any business with me– oh...that's unusual." After taking a good look at the man, he realized a crucial detail.

"HOLY Crusade, it's a zombie?" Grell shouted too loudly at the mortician's ear.

"...Yes, my little _headache_, it is." The moving corpse closed the distance rather quickly for something that's supposed to be slow as a snail. Suddenly, all around them, dozens of zombies appeared, moaning, groaning and grumbling.

"W-what the...? Why are there so many dead people walking? Why are they walking in the FIRST place?" The reaper cowered behind the silver-haired man. Grell was not scared, no he never showed fear unless in front of something truly scary like an angry Sebastian, but it didn't mean he didn't want to be chewed to bits!

"I can say on the name of my Mother –if I had one– that I have no idea what is happening, m'dear."

All of the meat puppets circled the two reapers and seemed to have taken a deep breath inward. A second of silence rose before the strangest thing happened: the zombies talked. Wait...not talked, _shouted_ in unison.

"FATHER!"

"WHAT THE HELL?" Grell responded. One after another zombie started to hug, –yes, hug– the Undertaker, pushing Grell outside of the circle.

"...I have children? Undead, rotting children?"

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><p><em>To be continued...<em>

**ZOMBIES.**

**Yup, randomness. This occurred to me in my daze of daydreams (my brain is that messed up XD)**

**Anyway~, I'll see you tomorrow.**

**~Cookies**


	2. A Strange Night

**Chapter two of this cracked up madness is now up!**

**Disclaimer: Toboso Yana owns everything, I'm just a crazy writer X3**

**R&R**

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><p>The rotting corpses of people in the cemetery suddenly rose and walked in the night, but it was what they did that would surprise most humans –or in this case, immortals– who would be there at the moment. They all got together and embraced one being, who by their mumbling words was 'Father'. Said person was just as confused as the redhead that was pushed aside, yelling 'He's mine!' and stomped in disagreement. There were easily forty or fifty zombies hugging the Undertaker, all bloody and broken.<p>

"Excuse me, but can one of you explain how I'm your father?" The now-barely breathing reaper asked to the zombies. His only answer was them grumbling and moaning incoherent words.

"Oh, well~ I guess I'll just go along with you~."

Undertaker was having a great time with his 'kids', teaching them that _'it's bad to eat your own arm'_ or _'be careful not to fall down a tomb'_. Grell had also gotten friendly with the brainless bodies and decided to show them how to _accessorize_ and properly attack unsuspecting humans. After Grell and Undertaker had finished making them 'pretty', some of the dead walked away and exited through the gates, feeling hungry.

"**HEY**, get back here and finish your sweater, Marion!" Grell shouted out, sitting on a gravestone.

"Aww, they grow up so fast~ –sniff– I'm going to miss them, aren't you darling?" The silver-haired reaper spoke, wiping a fake tear off.

"...Well, yea, they were kinda cute...just apply some moisturizer and powder and _voila!_ They could be confused for Maria Antoinette...if it was the 18th century."

They both watched as their kiddies disappeared in the mist, Undertaker yelling "Daddums will miss you!"

Then they came to an important realization: zombies ate people, and _that_ was not good, not good at all.

"Maybe we should go after them, honey?" Grell suggested, looking at the older reaper's always present grin.

"Hmm...why not? I still have no idea why they're running around~"

Grell stood up from the grave and walked, tilting his witch hat so see the path. All of a sudden the floor sank down on his feet and sucked him in. "Wah!" Undertaker turned to see the cause of the yelp, and saw his little witch waist-down sinking. Then the ground opened and a huge hole formed where the redhead was, falling in consequence.

"DAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..." His voice faded out.

"I'm coming for you, pumpkin face!" The Undertaker made a diving pose and jumped inside the gaping orifice in the floor. Falling down, he noticed there was light at the end, and not caring if he broke a few bones (or his skull again) he plummeted down faster.

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><p>The reaper hit the bottom floor with great force, next to the ginger's form. Dust rose up and around the two before slowly descending. Undertaker pounced up and called.<p>

"Grell! Are you alright and...that didn't hurt?" He paused to examine his body. Everything was in place. He fell a great distance yet nothing cracked, nothing hurt, and the same was with Grell.

"Yea, I'm fine, but look." He pointed to the cave tunnel ahead.

"Oh. Well isn't that interesting~." Momentarily forgetting that the laws of physics didn't apply, Undertaker stepped forward and inspected the cave. It was indeed an underground cave mouth, humid stalagmites everywhere and bats resting over the ceiling. "Should we go and see if there's a way out?"

"Please, let's." Grell answered, impatient.

Undertaker pranced away, Grell following behind, shivering.

"M'dear, are you cold?"

"Of course I am! It must be ten degrees down here." He crossed his arms for emphasis.

"Well, if you feel cold, why don't you come over here~?" The elder reaper opened his right arm, clasped the other around the waist and continued to walk, shoes splashing against puddles of water.

"Oh, this **is** better~." Grell said flirtatiously snuggling on the taller man's shoulder.

Undertaker noticed the cave floor wasn't humid or wet anymore; in fact, it didn't look like they were in a cave, but a long hallway now. Confused, he also noticed the hallway lead to a wooden door at the end.

"Since when did the cave turn to an underground facility?" The mortician questioned, his smirk softly fading.

"What do you mean, honey?"

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><p>Besides the fact that Grell didn't seem faced by the rapid change in background, the door they were currently in front of was filled with mystery. Hesitating, Undertaker slowly reached for the doorknob and turned it, opening the door. What was inside surprised him, but put a joyful smile to the red reaper.<p>

Opening the door, there was a small room with a wooden table in the center. There were candlesticks over the table and hooked on the wall. Many _strange_ things decorated those walls and metal shelves, some items that were too big or too large sat on the floor or against the wall. And by strange, he refers to many torture devices, including the Iron Maiden, the Rack, the Wheel, various flagellation whips, stakes, screws...

"This is–"

"HEAVEN, BABY!" Grell interrupted gleefully.

He went about his way to observe all the items present in the room, Undertaker standing idly. The reaper grabbed something from a shelf and showed it to the silver-haired man. "Look! Bondage~." What the smaller reaper was holding was steel cuffs, heavily secured and thick. "I'm going to take these with me, and maybe some whips–_wink_–?"

"No, no, that's not right." Undertaker said. "They're not ours. The owner will miss them, surely. I promise to get some for you later, m'dear~."

"Oh...okay...but you better!" Grell pouted, turning to the door opposite to the one they entered. "We better get going then!"

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><p>They continued to walk in the dark hallway, a couple of candles lighting the walls. Undertaker was still wondering how they reached this place and turned his head to see behind them. The hallway disappeared and they were back inside the cave.<p>

"What the... Grell, dear, tell me you noticed this too?" He turned to Grell but the redhead was squirming to a corner pointing at something crawling behind a boulder.

"R-rrat! Disgusting..." The vermin moved closer to the two. "GYAAAAAAAH, KILL IT!"

"Oh, calm down m'dear, it's just a small mous–"

"I DON'T CARE, JUST KILL IT!"

A sigh escaped the elder reaper's lips. _The things I do for love..._He approached the mouse squeaking and sniffing, and proceeded to stomp it dead.

"Stay still, little mouse. This will be over quickly if you do~."

As he closed in on the mouse, and slowly rose his leg... the mouse looked at him. Eyes flew wide open at its shout.

"GO AWAY! GRAAAAAWR!" The mouse yelled deeply, scaring both reapers bleach white.

"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!" Grell ran away with all his might after hearing the mouse actually _roar_. Undertaker wasn't far behind but lost sight of him soon. After stopping to catch his breath, the thought settled in.

_A rat roared...?_

_There're some weeeeird things happening tonight..._

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><p>Finally, a few more yards of walking ahead, Undertaker found the cave floor elevating and heading to what looked like an opening. Climbing up carefully with his heeled boots, he found a <strong>door<strong> that looked much like the one before.

"So many strange things tonight...funky rat..." Undertaker mumbled, opening the door.

On the other side was the entrance of the Phantomhive household. Stupefied, he stepped out and heard a familiar voice yell out.

"There you are! I've been looking for you." The ginger exclaimed, looking a tad bit angry.

"Well, you ran like a cheetah here, didn't you~? And...when did you change clothes?" Undertaker wondered outloud.

Grell, who was previously sporting a naughty witch's dress, was now wearing a _sexy_ nurse's outfit, showing off his legs.

"Change? I didn't change anything, darling. You must be seeing things."

Undertaker was most definitely **not** seeing things. He would remember what his little truffle was wearing previously especially when it was so intricate and _stimulating_. But whatever wardrobe Grell wore was forgotten when he took a good look at himself.

"WHY AM I WEARING A PRINCESS'S DRESS?" The silver-haired man shouted, shocked.

"Don't ask me, you're the one wearing it. And I must say, pink fits you so well~." Grell cooed.

He had to admit, Undertaker looked good. And he _did_ always want to be a princess.

"...Alright, then, why are we here at the little earl's home?" Undertaker lifted his head and looked at the night sky. It was a very clear night, free of clouds. The stars were all visible and bright. Wait...

_'Where's the moon?'_ he thought curiously. A new moon would be highlighted even _more_ with so many stars, it would make its presence apparent blocking out some strands of light. But the sky showed stars, stars and more stars...

No moon.

The front door opened and the earl with his butler came out.

"Hewwo, Undertaker." Ciel sounded strange and...

He wasn't wearing anything but diapers.

"My lord, please come back insid–"

"OH HELL NO!" Grell broke out.

"Why are YOU a woman and not **ME**?" He ended.

Indeed, Sebastian was a woman and Ciel was a teenager in diapers.

Undertaker expected them to be, of course, different too...

But **THAT** was too different.

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><p><strong>Yup, things are getting weird, erm, weirder.<strong>

**Its official, I'm writing crack.**

**~Cookies**


	3. A Mad Night

**Sooo, this horrendous idea is finally over (Lol, I bash my own writings)**

**Halloween, SEE YA NEXT YEAR!**

**Disclaimer: Toboso Yana = owner of Kuroshitsuji.**

**R&R my lovelies~**

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><p>Undertaker in a dress.<p>

Ciel, wearing diapers?

Sebastian turned female.

Grell is furious about that.

What does this all mean?

Let us find out.

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><p>In the midst of the Phantomhive manor, lived a young boy with the title of a Count. All around London, he was widely known as Earl Phantomhive; but what the common people didn't know was that he was the Queen's Watchdog, the one who solved the heavy problems of murders, massacres, disappearances and the like in the area. The Undertaker was his informant, as he was the informant of the underworld for the Evil Nobles. So naturally the Undertaker has <em>always<em> seen the young earl presume a strong authority and announce to be treated as an adult, age and appearance aside. **That** was not the earl he knew that was currently in front of himself and the Red Reaper in something as childish and low as a toddler's costume...if it _was_ a costume. The diaper cloth looked _very_ real. Then there was the butler, Sebastian. Now _that_ was a case different to the littler earl. Undertaker already knew of the butler's demon affinity and he was also familiar with their abilities...but changing genders...he did not know demons could do that, in fact, angels are supposed to be the only hermaphrodites between the immortals. Unless he himself sprout wings and flew alongside pigs, he refused to believe this was reality.

"...Uh...so, little earl... Care to explain why you are sporting such a _delightfully_ comical wear tonight? Or did we interrupt you two in something _intimate_?" He chuckled at his own words.

"If you must know, I wear this _awl_ the time; no one ever notices though." Ciel spoke with a two year-old's voice, still appearing a thirteen year-old physically.

_He wore it all the time? When was this 'time' that I should most definitely know about –to laugh–? ...He sounded so girly~. _Undertaker thought in return.  
>"Oh, do you now? That's good to know, little– no, <em>infant <em>earl~." The young boy huffed.

"Young master, your dinner will get cold if we don't hurry." Sebastian called out with his usual tone, yet sounding effeminate.

"Then, get me my apple sauce!" Ciel crossed his arms, grunting. _Oooh, spunky~._

"**Wait**!" The redhead nurse shouted, taking all of the present people's attention. "This is outrageous!" Grell yelled, pointing at the obvious change in the butler's..._physique_ to say the least.

"I'll say, darling." Undertaker agreed. "His breasts are too large for such a skinny body." Sebastian awkwardly coughed at that.

"...I meant that_ I_ should be a woman, not Sebby, you dunderhead!" The feminine reaper responded.

_**Pffft**_.

The two reapers and Female Sebastian turned their heads at the direction of the sound, the little human boy. Ciel had a light blush on his cheeks quickly.

"...I made a poopy..." A silence rose around them, before Ciel turned to his butler. "_Bitch_, clean it up."

Grell and Undertaker gasped in unison at the words uttered through the now-deserving-a-spank boy. A spank...not a bad idea.

"First, I am not a dog; second, that word is bad manners; third, _that is what you get for eating so much chocolate_, and _cuatro_...I shall get to it my lord." He–_**She**_ sighed with the last count.

"Cuatro...? You know I don't know Portuguese."

"...That was Spanish, my lord."

"_Haa!_ You're an idiot, **brat**." Grell broke their quarrel, earning a glare from Ciel. "And...about your gender...I could get used to the new you, Sebby~." A purr emitted from the redhead's mouth.

_Shudder_. "Satan, _help me_."

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><p>Undertaker was too busy processing everything in his twisted little mind –with a hint of jealousy seeing Grell flaunt over Sebastian's new form– to notice that his little zombie children had made their way into the manor. The dead's moans of hunger were heard from the approximate one hundred yards of distance between their position in the field and the four men. Scratch that, one crazy man in a dress, one womanman, a gender-confused man wearing a nurse's outfit and a teenager acting like a baby.

"WHAT are those things?" Ciel looked disgusted at the zombies walking into his manor's property.

"Those _things_ are my children, thank you." Undertaker snarled back, the ever-present grin disappearing for a second, and then returning.

"_Children_? Who did you mate with, the dead corpse of a woman?"

"...Yes, and her name was Charlotte." The other three stared at the mortician for a long second. "But that has nothing to do with this! The truth is, I don't know why they're walking around or why they called me Father, but they did, so I'm calling them my younglings~." The silver-haired man skipped merrily to his 'dolls'.

"...WHO'S CHARLOTTE?" Grell exclaimed to the older reaper.

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><p>"Hello my children, I missed you so much~. Did you all miss me?"<p>

The meat puppets saw the Undertaker and immediately sprinted –yes, _sprinted_– to him, oozing body fluids and all. For the second time that night, Undertaker was hugged tightly by the strange mob of bodies, squeezing the air out of him.

"_Guh_...whoever said zombies are as slow as _crap_ never met you~, darlings."

Suddenly, three forks flew up and onto one of the zombie's head.

"Sebastian, expose of those undead beings, **now**." The young boy ordered his butler. Ciel's voice was back to normal, diaper still present.

"Yes, my lord." The feminine butler drew four forks and knives in between his fingers and darted them on the zombies surrounding the Undertaker, taking out seven of them, one knife expertly caught by Grell.

"Hey, leave the babies alone!" Grell scoffed at the knife and threw it on the ground. "It's no fun if someone **else** kills them! Allow me~!" The red reaper started his chainsaw for a Death Scythe and proceeded to slash the undead now running away.

_Man_, they were running fast. "Stop fleeing darlings, you must understand, if you can think! Eating humans is no good, sadly~. So we must exterminate you like flies~." Undertaker told them and they reasoned to stay, somehow. Another fork flew onto a zombie.

_Twitch._

He really didn't like someone besides Grell and himself take care of his children. But it was his little master's order, he couldn't avoid it.

* * *

><p>Five more minutes later, and only one zombie was left standing, said zombie was both Grell and Undertaker's favorite: Marion, who didn't finish his sweater.<p>

"Oh, sweetie~, at least finish it before we take your undead life away. It would be a good last moment with us, don't you think?" The funeral director gave the unfinished sweater to his little Marion, who gladly stitched it up with thread and a needle as the younger reaper had taught them. A few seconds later he was done. Horribly done, but finished nonetheless.

"There we go~. Now, this will be over quic–" Sebastian drew the last knife from his pocket and stabbed it through the cranium of Marion the meat puppet, distastefully. The kitchen utensil went past his head easily and pierced the Undertaker's head harshly, and painfully. Something fell to the floor.

The elder reaper looked down to see.

_Oops._

"Grell, darling, I lost my mind! Go get it!" Apparently the Undertaker lost his mind, literally in a way, since he saw half his head (scar across his face upwards) on the floor. The ginger nurse rapidly grabbed it and placed it back in place, hat and all. _Wait, how can I lose a part of my anatomy that's attached to my skull? Maybe I hit it too hard on that tombstone after all..._

After everything was neatly restored and ordered he glanced at the sky above, wondering. The moon was still gone, and the stars shined brighter than before. Somehow there was something wrong with this picture...did he fall asleep? Reapers were known to have bizarre dreams when falling asleep on All Hallows Eve when a new moon loomed high.  
>All of a sudden, things made sense with that thought, but when did he fall asleep?<p>

Then looking back on the butler returning to his master's side, their figures returned to their average wear and _gender_ thankfully. But Undertaker was oddly filled with some rage. His little doll Marion was taken when it was his own to kill.

_Screw the moon._

"Butler..." Undertaker's surroundings grew dark and eerie. Yup, he was mad for the first time in a long time. "I swear by the flames of _Hell_ that I will tear your claws out _slowly_, cut off each of your limbs, **excruciatingly** with Grell's Death scythe –and that won't be pretty–, rip out your every organ with a spoon and actually, –with my bear hands–, _pull_ off your head for killing my little doll without my permiss–GYAAHAAHHAAHAHAHAHAAH STOP TICKLING ME, DEAR!"

Grell had started tickling the pink-wearing reaper's ribs and sides for no justified reason, and didn't stop.

"M-m'dear, you –kufuu– you can st-stop now –gahah! – I c-c-an't BREATHE! GYAHAHAHAAHAH!" The poor convulsing reaper spat and coughed, unable to catch his breath, the redhead not allowing it. The world seemed to fade out as he cackled and cried out. He heard ringing in his ears for a second before prying his eyes open to stop the reaper.

"Undertaker~" It was Grell's voice speaking, teasing.

"Undertaker?"

_Undertaker...?_

* * *

><p><em>Undertaker...<em>

Soft gray view.

_Undertaker?_!

A strong grip on the shoulders.

WAKE UP!

Undertaker slammed his eyes open too quickly, his eyes burning against the sight of the rising sun. He took a look around, over the ground, ran his hands over his head and sat up straight to look at Grell.

They were back in the graveyard, wearing the same old clothes –well, Grell was wearing his witch's wardrobe again– no bodies, no giant hole in the ground, no screaming rats or she-males around, finally.

"You know, you've been sleeping for a few hours now, but you didn't wake up no matter _what_ I did. So I decided to tickle you~." Grell giggled sweetly.

"Asleep? Oh, Thank God it was a dream." Undertaker let out a sigh with his words and returned his character smile.

"Hmm? What did you dream about?"

He recalled the hallucination for a moment. No, he won't tell the reaper anything about that... Instead Undertaker would rather contemplate Grell's face light up on the sunrise than think.

"It's nothing m'dear~." He made a promise with himself not to sleep anything this week.

And affirmatively he did not sleep a wink until a week had passed and the horribly weird events of that night were forgotten, but when the earl came around to his shop for information, Undertaker couldn't help a chuckle escaping his lips, and he would never look at the butler directly in the eye again, lest he get the urge to kick his face... Hard.

Grell was not safe either. He wore many different types of clothing around the elder reaper now, whether it was to walk around in town or to soon be removed by long black talons and have...'vigorous exercise'.

Be wary of a Void Moon on the most festive night of the year and an over-zealous Undertaker.

* * *

><p><strong>Crack. Is. Over.<strong>

**And say good-bye to it because it's the only crack I will **_**impulsively**_** write (mostly I write drama, romance and lovey-dovey stuff)**

**Signing out!**

**~Cookies**


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